The was my ZoSan Secret Valentine's gift for zoroism on tumblr!
Zoro was drunk. Not that kind of half-buzzed drunk that was short lived, and left him thirsty and tired after an hour. Not the kind of maybe tipsy he got at Luffy's birthday party last year. He was, for the first time in his life, flat out drunk.
His head was swimming, and his eyes slid in and out of focus. The bass that radiated from the speakers on the stage seemed to time the beat of his heart. He felt the troubles of his day, of his whole life, melt away. He felt lightweight, born anew. He could definitely get used to this.
These fake IDs had been a genius idea. He was so happy he could kiss Usopp.
The floor slid from under his feet as he stood. The whole room tilted and whirled. Zoro let out a laugh. He was fucked up, pleasantly so, and he knew it. He loved it.
He followed the rise and fall of the floor, staggering as he miscalculated one of his steps. He tried to correct himself, but his balance betrayed him, and he lurched forward, slamming flat into one of the people milling around the club.
"Shit fucking dammit!" a voice shouted. The voice was low, raspy; sexy as hell. Zoro didn't know you could be attracted to a voice, but this guy's voice was something else.
The man spun, glaring Zoro down where he stood.
"What the hell is your problem!" the guy shouted.
Zoro watched over the man's shoulder as the two women he'd been talking to shared a whispered conversation and walked away.
"Sorry about your dates," Zoro said, or, he tried to say it. His voice came out thick and the words slurred when his tongue refused to work properly.
"Wha-?" The guy spun, seeking out his companions, but they had already disappeared onto the dance floor. "God dammit!"
"Ha." Zoro snickered. "Whoops."
The man rounded on Zoro again, rage burning like fire in his blue eye. Just one eye, because the other was hidden away under a curtain of blonde hair. Zoro almost snorted. Shitty emo kids.
"What the fuck is your problem, man?!" the guy shouted, giving Zoro a rough shove.
Zoro staggered, his balance was shot to shit with the amount of liquor he had consumed. He should have righted himself and punched this asshole in the face, but with all the alcohol in his blood stream, he knew that was a bad idea. He could barely stand upright, let alone take down some emo punk. Even though the guy looked about Zoro's height and only half his weight, he had the shitty advantage of being sober.
"'M fuckin' drunk," Zoro slurred out, the words running together and barely intelligible. He wasn't even sure why he felt like sharing that fact with his blond asshole. It had just slipped out; the automatic answer to the guy's question.
Thankfully, the guy didn't shove him again, even as Zoro's balance tipped him considerably too far into the other man's personal space.
"Christ," the guy finally said, so quiet Zoro could barely make out the words. He could read them on the man's lips though; lips Zoro was suddenly very fascinated by. He wasn't sure why. They were thin and a little dry looking, but Zoro couldn't help but stare and picture those lips put to other uses.
Uses that made his body temperature rise.
"How old are you?" the guy asked.
"Twenty-one," Zoro lied. That was how old he was according to the fake ID Usopp had made for him, and that was how old he had to be to get this shit-faced in a bar, so that was how old he was for the night.
The man's eyebrow quirked skeptically. It was a stupid looking eyebrow, one that curled up at the end like some old timer's mustache. Zoro wanted to make fun of it, but he let it drop for now, because the man's weird eyebrow led to other discoveries. Discoveries like the sharp nose, the blue eyes, the tight, lean body. All things considered, this guy was pretty good looking, and Zoro's body seemed to agree.
"Do you wanna dance?" Zoro asked. His words were mush, and he knew it was weird as hell to ask a strange man to dance, but all he wanted at that moment was for the guy to stick around a little longer.
"With you?" the guy asked. His eyebrow rose again.
"What?" Zoro asked, smirking. "Too good to dance with a guy?" He laughed. Should've known the desperate fuck was straight. He had been trying so hard to get those girls to pay attention to him.
"I- what?" the guy stammered. "What are you—how do you—" He dragged a hand through his blond hair, tugging at it in frustration. He made a noise, some kind of frustrated growl, but fuck the sound of his voice really did things to Zoro.
"Fuck it," the blond finally said. "Let's dance."
This was like Christmas come early. Zoro got to be wasted off his ass and have some hot guy dance with him. Better than Christmas; this was practically heaven.
"I'm Zoro," he said, backing away towards the dancefloor.
"Sanji," the blond muttered quickly. He was casting furtive glances around the room, like he was embarrassed to be caught dancing with a guy. Or maybe he was scoping out the exits, trying to plot out his escape. Zoro wanted to laugh again. This guy was a fucking joke.
The music was shit, but the beat was fast. It made Zoro's heart race as he and Sanji took up a spot among the crowd of people on the dancefloor. The people around them writhed together in unison, a sea of undulating bodies. Sanji was still glancing around, looking out of his element and lost. He was giving Zoro the perfect chance to fuck with him, and Zoro never passed up a challenge.
Zoro stepped closer to Sanji, and placed his hands on his hips. He tugged, pulling Sanji closer, zeroing the space between them, and then he rocked his hips to the beat. His eyes locked with Sanji's, whose eyes widened in shock at the sudden closeness. But Zoro kept his body moving with the music, his hips swaying and twisting, moving against Sanji's. His hands gripped at Sanji's hips, feeling the impressive muscle frozen beneath them.
But Sanji still hadn't moved. He stood, wide-eyed and staring at Zoro, panic and surprise mingling his features.
Zoro chuckled and leaned forward, his lips brushing Sanji's ear as he spoke. "What's wrong, eyebrow? Are you scared?"
The words seemed to light a fire in Sanji. All at once, his body unfroze, and moved against Zoro's. He drew back enough to look into Zoro's eyes, and Zoro could see the familiar glint of a challenge sparking in them. This was a fight, but not the kind Sanji had been instigating before, this was on a whole new level.
A fucking good level. Zoro's head tipped back as Sanji's hips ground against his with one delicious roll of his hips. He made a noise that was swallowed by the beat of the base and the cacophony of voices that surrounded them. But Sanji must have heard him, because he repeated the action again, sending a jolt of pleasure into Zoro's system.
He had severely underestimated Sanji. The blond was skinny, his body lean and undefined under layers of clothing. But Zoro could feel tight muscles that rolled and flexed under his hands. He could feel the strength in Sanji's thighs and he could practically see taut abs bunching and coiling under tight fabric.
Zoro clutched tighter dragged him closer, meeting Sanji's hips with his own in a rough thrust. Sanji's mouth fell open, but no sound came out. Not good enough. He pressed closer, his body flush against Sanji's. He could hear the blond's breathing in his ear; heavy, labored pants that stuttered with every move of their bodies together.
Zoro smirked, parted his lips, and ducked his head to lick the salty flesh of the blond's neck. He heard Sanji gasp, and felt him shift closer, pulling their bodies tight together. Zoro took that as a sign of encouragement and attached his lips to the pale skin of the slender neck, sucking on the flesh, savoring it's taste. He rolled his hips forward again, grinding against Sanji, pushing the outline of his erection into Sanji's through their jeans.
"Fuuuuuck," Sanji swore, dragging out the word as a shudder tore through his body.
His voice made Zoro's knees buckle. Shit. He had loved that voice before, but the smoky sound was even more erotic now, deeper, rougher. Zoro held on to Sanji like a man drowning, grinding his hips forward, seeking out both his own relief and more of that sound.
Sanji panted against Zoro's ear. This was not going well for him. This guy had pissed him off from the moment he'd ran into him, and this whole fucking situation was just supposed to be a chance to put the cocky fucker in his place.
But Sanji was losing it. He was coming apart at the seams. Zoro was fucking hot, and he was good with his hands, and his lips, and his—
Sanji's thoughts shattered as Zoro bucked against him. He could feel his erection even through his jeans, and Sanji could feel his own traitorous body responding.
Why was this happening? Sure, the guy was hot for that punk rock type and maybe he had been able to get under Sanji's skin with just a few drunken words but god dammit. He could not lose to this asshole. He couldn't let Zoro run the show and win the battle. This was a fight. Different from the one Sanji had tried to start earlier, maybe, but it was still a fight, and he wasn't going to lose.
"Turn around," he growled into Zoro's ear. It was hard to keep his voice steady. He shuddered when Zoro's hands dragged over his ass and squeezed. Sanji thrust his hips forward involuntarily, and Zoro didn't miss a beat in meeting them with his own. Sanji's eyes almost rolled into the back of his head. He didn't let them out of sheer willpower.
"Why?" Zoro asked, pulling back just enough to look Sanji in the eye.
Why? Sanji wanted to kick this guy in the head. How fucking dense could he be? Sanji took a deep breath. The guy was wasted, probably stupid drunk, and what did he really expect from someone with moss growing out of their head?
"Just fucking trust me," Sanji said. "Turn around."
This time Zoro obeyed without hesitation. He turned around and pressed himself against Sanji, his back flush with Sanji's chest. He moved his hips back, grinding his ass in torturous circles against Sanji's cock. Sanji had to grit his teeth to keep from moaning.
Sanji's hands moved under Zoro's arms, dragging him even closer. Zoro relaxed against him, leaning half of his drunken weight against Sanji's body.
Sanji's hands traveled down, slowing mapping out Zoro's body. He groped at Zoro's toned chest, his thumbs rubbing over the pert rise of his nipples. Zoro's head tipped back onto Sanji's shoulder, his mouth open and slack. He was certainly enjoying himself.
His hands moved over Zoro's abs, tracing the planes of muscles there. What did this guy do for a living? He was so fit, Sanji's mouth watered at the thought of what Zoro must have looked like without clothing on. He had to have been like a bodybuilder or something.
His hands hit the waistband of Zoro's jeans, and he wasted no time slipping his fingers under the band, seeking out the prize hidden below.
Zoro's head shot up and he grabbed Sanji's arm, halting his hand.
"What the hell are you doing?!" He was shouting so loud he could be heard over the music. A few of the people closest to them turned their heads.
"Shut up," Sanji gritted out. "Just take it easy."
"In front of all these people?!" Zoro asked in disbelief.
"It's not like they're going to know." Sanji's head nodded to the dancers in front of them. It was a couple, half gone under the rush of alcohol and lust. They're bodies swayed off the beat of the music, lost in the feel of their bodies together. They didn't look much different than Zoro and Sanji, and they certainly weren't paying attention to what the other people around them were doing.
"See?" Sanji spoke into Zoro's ear. "Just go with it."
Zoro's hand slid from his arm and fell uselessly by his side. Sanji took that as permission to continue.
He popped the button on Zoro's pants. Not enough for the man to lose them, just enough for Sanji to have the access he needed. His hand wasted no time diving into Zoro's jeans, clearing the waistband of his boxers, and finding the prize hidden underneath.
Zoro arched his back and a soft grunt escaped him with the first touches of Sanji's hand against his cock. He was full and heavy in Sanji's palm, and Sanji stroked him in a tight fist.
Zoro sighed. The bass of the music easily drowned out the noises he made, but Sanji caught every one of them. Zoro's head fell back against Sanji's shoulder again. Sanji could hear every grunt, every sigh. He heard the faint groan as Zoro bucked his hips, needy and wanting for more. Sanji really wanted to take him into the bathroom and fuck him until he was spent. Or be fucked by him, Sanji wouldn't have minded that either.
His thoughts shattered as Zoro ground back against him, placing Sanji's cock right in the cleft of the ass he'd just been thinking about. It was then Sanji realized his hand had stopped moving. He'd gotten distracted thinking about fucking the guy he was jacking off. If that didn't say something about the way Zoro set him off, Sanji didn't know what did.
Zoro's hips did the work Sanji's hands failed to keep up on. He rolled his hips forward, driving his cock deeper into Sanji's fist, and then pulled back, his ass grinding back on Sanji's cock before he drove himself forward again. The bastard was really getting himself off using Sanji's immobile hand, and it was really fucking hot.
Sanji's fist tightened, and Zoro groaned. Sanji moved his hand, jerking it up and down in quick, sharp movements. His apology for being lost in thought. Zoro's breath came out hot and heavy by Sanji's ear, it's pace becoming more gasping an erratic as it went. Zoro had to be close now, Sanji could feel the man's body shake, his balance unsteady on his feet.
"Fuck!" Zoro cursed.
Sanji felt his cock twitch and come splattered his hand. Zoro's body seized, his back arching. Slack-jawed, and gasping, Zoro came in Sanji's hand.
Sanji's pace slowed, milking out the last of Zoro's orgasm before he pulled his hand out and buttoned Zoro's jeans once more. Zoro leaned against him a moment longer, lifeless and spent.
"Come on, you lazy bastard," Sanji growled. His hand found Zoro and his pressed the palm of Zoro's hand against his own aching erection. He had been so close to coming when Zoro did, and the pain of his needy cock made him more impatient than ever. "You touch me too."
Zoro moved, standing a little straighter and turning to return favor. His eyes met Sanji's and Sanji felt a shiver pass through his body. Something about the unguarded expression in Zoro's eyes made his body hot.
"Zoro!" a voice called. Both Sanji and Zoro's attention snapped to the girl emerging from the crowd. She was pretty, young, and disheveled. There was a beer in her hand and her face was flushed. She staggered a little bit as she approached them, but she didn't look the least bit disturbed by their position or proximity, though the erection pressing against Sanji's jeans was anything but hidden.
"There you are!" she said cheerfully. "Usopp's already so drunk he can't walk and Franky said it was 'super' time for us to go." She made air quotes around the word "super" and rolled her eyes. "So come on!"
She grabbed Zoro's wrist and tugged him, pulling him away from Sanji and out towards the crowd. Zoro looked from his wrist to Sanji, an almost pleading look in his eyes, but then he was gone, dragged away by the beautiful girl. Sanji watched them go, his cock throbbing as he watched the object of his night's desire dragged away, and he swore. That was the worst fucking timing in the world for him.
With a frustrated groan, he tried to adjust his pants and saw himself off the dancefloor. The unfairness of it all pissed him off, and he swore as he headed to the bathroom to finish himself off, that if he ever saw that Zoro guy again, he'd kill him.
Zoro yawned, and Nami jabbed him in the ribs.
"Knock it off, you'll make me yawn too," she scolded.
"It wasn't my idea to make fake IDs and go to the bar for an 'end of summer night out' right before school was starting," he snapped at her.
"No, but I didn't hear you disagreeing," she snapped back.
Zoro scratched at his head. He didn't have a good comeback for that, because it was true. He had thought the idea was great. It meant getting to drink himself stupid and spend the night out with his friends, there was no way he could complain about that. Plus, it had gone even better than he'd expected. He'd gotten a hand job from a hot stranger out of the deal, and there wasn't even a hangover to pay for the whole experience. If his friends invited him out again, he'd go in a heartbeat.
His mind stuck on the memory of the guy from last night. He'd been so wasted he could barely even remember the guy's face. He just remembered blond hair and an eyebrow that looked like a dartboard. It was hard to forget that stupid eyebrow. What had that guy done, put a curler on it?
But Zoro couldn't forget the way the guy's body had felt under his clothing, or the way he got Zoro off. Zoro's body was still pleasantly relaxed from the attention the stranger had given him. He'd never gotten off like that before, and honestly if he had to go through that again as well, he definitely wouldn't say no.
What was that guy's name again? Something with an S? Or was it a T? Zoro couldn't even remember that much, and he almost resented the alcohol induced haze he'd been in for not allowing him to remember the finer details of the evening.
"Zoro are you listening?" Nami elbowed him this time, the action hurting bad enough to bruise. Zoro rubbed the spot she'd hit and scowled.
"What?" he snapped.
"I said they hired a new teacher over break."
"So?" Zoro asked, still irritable.
"So, he's our homeroom teacher, idiot," she said. "And I was saying he better be as cool as Ms. Nico was or I'm really going to be bummed." She sighed. "I miss her already."
"You have her for history, don't you?" Zoro asked.
"Yeah," Nami sighed. "But it's different. Ms. Nico never counted my tardies."
Zoro rolled his eyes, but he couldn't say anything. Even after a year, he still managed to get lost on his way to homeroom, and Ms. Nico had cut him a lot of slack as well. The woman was kinda creepy and a little severe, but he couldn't say he didn't appreciate her.
Nami pulled open their homeroom door and peeked her head inside. "It doesn't look like the new teacher is here yet," she reported.
"He's probably lost." Zoro shrugged and shouldered his way past her, into the classroom. "This place is a labyrinth."
Nami rolled her eyes. "Only you think that, Zoro," she said, "because only you could get lost walking a straight line."
"I do not get lost walking a—"
The rest of Zoro's sentence was drowned out as their overbearing principal smashed his fist down on the teacher's podium. The rounding crack of splintering wood seemed to reverberate in the air, and a hush fell over the class almost instantly.
"Whoops," their principal, Principal Garp, muttered. "I hit that a little harder than I—anyway." He cleared his throat. "Students, we have a new teacher joining us," Garp said
The class waited in silence, the suspense growing as the seconds ticked by. Then the seconds turned into a minute, and then two minutes…
"Come on, Grandpa!" Ace shouted.
"Oh, right." Garp cleared his throat again. "I just wanted to make sure I had everyone's attention. Anyway, here is your new teacher, Mr. Black."
The man that entered the room was tall and lean, his body undefined and too skinny under a crisp three-piece suit. He seemed to slouch in, an aura of nonchalance rolling off him in waves as he approached the podium. He shook Principal Garp's hand, wincing as he did so.
The man looked strangely familiar, though Zoro couldn't be sure why. A curtain of blond hair shielded the man's face, though his sharp nose and sculpted jawline were easily visible. It wasn't until the guy turned to face the classroom that Zoro could really put his finger on where he knew the guy from.
One visible blue eye glared out at them from under a tightly curled eyebrow.
Zoro, who had been leaning his chair back on two legs, tipped himself backwards in alarm. He fell hard onto the linoleum tile of the classroom floor, his chair screeching loudly over the surface until it rammed against his desk and they both crashed to a halt. The noise drowned out whatever it was Mr. Black had been about to say, and every eye in the room turned to Zoro. Several of the guys laughed.
Nami leaned over the top of her desk, staring down at him.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"'m fine," Zoro muttered, fighting off his embarrassed blush as he sat up.
"I told you that was going to happen one day," she said.
"Nami," he gritted out. "Shut it."
He righted the chair and pulled himself back onto it. He tried to keep as quiet as possible, hoping not to draw any more attention to himself than he already had. He wanted nothing more than for the teacher to pick up homeroom and ignore what had just happened. Maybe if he kept his head down he could avoid the potentially awkward situation he was going to encounter.
But like any good teacher, this guy couldn't let it rest.
"Are you alright? Mr… Roronoa, Zo—"
The man's voice broke off suddenly and Zoro cringed internally. Of course the guy would remember Zoro's name. He hadn't been as drunk as Zoro had been. Zoro tried to rack his memory for the stranger's name. For some reason it seemed important that he know it before he looked up and faced the truth. But the surface of his desk didn't hold the answers for him, and his mind was drawing a blank. With a resigned sigh, he lifted his head, his own golden brown eyes meeting blue ones.
Sanji. Zoro remembered in an instant. The guy, his teacher, was named Sanji, and Zoro's vague drunken memories didn't do his appearance justice. He was gorgeous.
He watched Sanji's eyes flick up to his hair and then back to his face. He cursed that he'd decided to dye his hair green. Sanji's jaw dropped and for a second it hung there, as wide as his eyes as realization seemed to strike him. He stared at Zoro like that, mouth agape and expression one of complete shock, until Coby in the first row spoke up.
"Uh… Mr. Black? Are you okay?"
Sanji's jaw snapped shut and he blinked looking away from Zoro immediately.
"I'm fine," he said. His answer came too quick to be convincing, but the students didn't seem to notice. "Mr. Roronoa, I'd like you to stay after homeroom today so that we can discuss your accident."
"Ugh." Zoro heard Nami groan behind him. "He's gonna be one of those strict teachers."
The bell to signal the start of their classes sounded, and the students collectively rose and headed for the door. Zoro rose with them, swinging his bag over his shoulder and intending to make it to math class on time today, but a leg dressed in fine black slacks barred his way.
"Not so fast," Sanji growled. He kept his voice low and his eyes flicked towards the other students. "You and I need to talk."
Zoro sighed. He hadn't forgotten Mr. Black's request to speak with him after class, but he really didn't think he had meant it. What could Sanji really have to say to him? Wouldn't it be better to pretend the whole thing hadn't happened? Zoro would have been content to do just that, but it seemed Sanji was intent on being difficult.
With a sigh, Zoro turned on his heal and dropped his bag onto the nearest desk. Then, with his arms folded over his chest, he turned to face the teacher.
"What?" he asked.
"Don't 'what' me!" Sanji snapped. His voice was just above a hysterical whisper. "What the fuck, Zoro! You said you were twenty-one!"
"Well, I obviously lied."
Sanji's hand smacked against his face and he wiped down, dragging his skin slightly. "No fucking shit," he grumbled. "Please tell me you're at least eighteen."
"I will be in two months." Zoro shrugged.
Sanji turned away and kicked the podium, leaving a foot sized imprint splintered into the wood. Zoro winced, happy the kick hadn't been aimed at him instead. How was that poor podium even still standing?
After his angry kick, Sanji's whole figure seemed to slump. His shoulders sagged and his head hung, and his knees seemed to buckle under his weight.
"I'm fucked," he muttered. He was talking to himself, Zoro realized, though the words were loud enough to hear. "I'm so, so fucked. I can't believe I… with a seventeen year old."
"Hey!" Zoro snapped. "I'm not a kid, you know." Then he smirked. "But of course you felt that for yourself."
When Sanji spun to face him again, his face was flushed red. Whether that was from rage or embarrassment, Zoro couldn't tell. Probably a mixture of both.
"You couldn't even get me off!" Sanji shouted.
"Oh?" Zoro raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to try again?"
He took a step forward and Sanji immediately scrambled backwards. His shoulders hit the chalkboard with a loud thump. Zoro snorted and back off.
"Relax, shitty teacher. I'll leave your virginity intact for now."
"I'm not—" Sanji sputtered. After a few false starts, he shouted, "what would a kid like you know anyway?!"
"I wouldn't," Zoro shrugged again. "That was the first time I let anyone touch me."
Sanji's face reddened again. "Oh god, please, just stop talking."
"Why?" Zoro asked, smirking. "Getting turned on?"
He meant it as a cruel joke. It was clear Sanji had his regrets about what had happened, and Zoro couldn't deny that their current situation was less than ideal, but he was pissed off. For what it was, he had actually enjoyed himself with Sanji. He wouldn't have said no to doing it again, or to getting to know the man he found so attractive. Sanji's being his teacher didn't lessen Zoro's hormones or his intrigue. He was attracted to Sanji, plain and simple.
But Sanji's reactions were grossly overdramatic. He was acting almost disgusted by what happened between them. Zoro might have been a student, but he wasn't a child. If Sanji had wanted to forget last night, Zoro would have let him pretend all he wanted to, but his treating Zoro like a kid was doing nothing but pissing him off.
But to Zoro's surprise, Sanji answered, "Yeah, kind of."
He didn't say it with any air of arrogance. He sounded almost defeated as he admitted the truth.
"What?" Zoro frowned.
"I mean…" Sanji sighed. "Fuck. This is so shitty."
"What's shitty?" Zoro asked, confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Sanji stood straight and stepped closer to Zoro. "I mean that it's fucked up I just gave a hand job to a minor."
Zoro opened his mouth to make a comment but Sanji cut him off.
"Shut up!" he snapped. "Let me talk." He ran a hand through his hair, clutched desperately at the golden strands, but never displaced those stupid bangs.
"It's fucked up that I gave a hand job to a student. It's fucked up that I enjoyed it. It's fucked up that I got myself off thinking about you, wishing you could have stuck around long enough to finish what you'd started."
Zoro's jaw was gaping. He had no idea where in the hell Sanji was going with this, but it was both confusing and hot.
"I was thinking about going back to that shitty bar just to see if you were there. I'd probably go every night of the week if it meant getting to bump into you again, because for some stupid reason I really wanted to see you again. But here you are, one of my students." He groaned. "I should just pretend it didn't happen, ask you to do the same. I don't care if you're the legal age of consent. I'm supposed to be an adult, and I'm supposed to be responsible." His words came out in one never ending rush. "But even though I know how fucked up it is, all I really want to do is bend over and let you fuck me over the teacher's desk."
Zoro's mouth had gone completely dry. Whatever conclusion he had thought Sanji was going to reach at the end of his rant that was not it. He stared, opened mouthed at the teacher standing before him. Sanji was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath from his long-winded speech. His shoulders rose and fell with every breath, his neck tightening as he sucked in air. He was flushed, bright-eyed, and far hotter than he needed to be.
Zoro didn't have the will power for this. He was strong, disciplined, but this shitty teacher had found a way to push all the right buttons.
"What the hell are we wasting our time talking for then?" Zoro asked, pulling off his school uniform's blazer.
It was unreal having Sanji underneath him. They didn't have the time to take it slow, but, god, Zoro wished they did. He wished he could take the time to undress Sanji properly, but instead he settled for hiking up the man's shirt and reaching for as much skin as he could find underneath it. He had to settle for ripping Sanji's pants down to his knees, just enough to get them out of the way.
He wished he could take the time to savor Sanji's body, to kiss and touch and lick every inch of him, but he had to settle for pressing Sanji down onto the desk and covering his body with his own. He wanted to pull so many sounds from Sanji, grunts, pants and shouts that would leave his voice even more ragged and hoarse than it already was, but he had to keep them quiet, sealing Sanji's lips with his hand or his own mouth, sucking on smoke flavored skin.
"The next time we do this," Zoro growled against Sanji's ear, pressing against his back. "I want to suck you off first. I want to do so many nasty things to you. I want to make you beg."
"Oh fuck," Sanji hissed. "Shut the fuck up and just fuck me already."
Zoro complied, though his confidence waned as he moved. He spit into his hand and slicked his cock. It was a poor excuse for lubricant but it wasn't like he had much of a choice, and then with a final deep breath, he pushed in.
"Shit," Sanji hissed out in one long breath.
"Are you okay?" Zoro asked. He knew the basics, but had never done this himself before, maybe he had messed up?
"Don't fucking ask," Sanji groaned. "Please." His voice sounded absolutely ruined. "Please move, god, please."
Zoro didn't need to be told twice. He slid out and slammed himself back in, jarring Sanji's body against the desk. He tore a sound from Sanji that sounded positively inhuman and he couldn't wait to make it happen again. With no more restraint, he pounded into Sanji. His thrusts were sharp, erratic, and full.
Sanji seemed to lose his voice halfway through. His mouth hung open in a silent scream as Zoro drove in and out of him. The tight heat, the feeling of Sanji's body sliding up the desk beneath him with every thrust, and the look of ecstasy on Sanji's face was making things difficult for Zoro. He could feel the heat of his own orgasm rushing through his blood stream. But he had already gotten to come before Sanji once, and he wasn't going to let it happen again.
Instinctively he reached around Sanji's body, finding his cock with his hand and grasping it in a firm hold. Sanji's head snapped back and a groan escaped his lips.
"Oh, fuck," Sanji gasped. "Zoro, please."
Zoro jerked his hand in time with his own thrusts. Sanji's head fell against the desk again, but his mouth never stopped moving.
"Yes, yes, yes, shit."
Zoro could see the muscles in Sanji's back tense. His whole body grew rigid. He was almost there, Zoro could tell, he just needed one final push over the edge.
Zoro leaned down, folding himself over Sanji's back without ever losing his rhythm.
"Come on, you shitty teacher," he grunted against Sanji's ear. It was getting hard for him as well. "Can't you feel me inside of you?" He punctuated the question with and especially hard thrust. "You feel my hand?" He squeezed his fist, making Sanji's cock throb.
"Yes," Sanji agreed emphatically.
"Then come," Zoro commanded.
Sanji's body spasmed and went rigid. His cock pulsed, once, twice, and then with a hard shudder he came, his come marking the desk, Zoro's hand, and splashing to the floor. He cried out, some mixture of an unintelligible scream and Zoro's name. The expression on his face was tight, almost pained.
It was too much for Zoro, he came with a groan, filling Sanji inside. When he was finished he half collapsed on top of the teacher, his muscles trembling from the strain.
"Come on, you shitty student," Sanji grumbled after a few moments. "Get off me."
Zoro stood on shaking legs, taking a few staggering steps away from Sanji. His body felt light, tingly, and he was ready to take the longest nap in the world.
"I'll write you a pass for your next class," Sanji said, sliding a note pad and a pen over the surface of the desk. Its contents were scattered, some knocked to the floor from their activities. "Just tell them I lectured you about how to sit in a chair properly."
He was still half-naked, standing with his pants around his knees. Zoro could see his come leaking down between Sanji's legs. It filled him with a sort of perverse satisfaction.
"And there is this, too," Sanji said, handing another slip of paper to Zoro.
"Detention?" Zoro asked, his eyebrow rising in question.
"Yeah," Sanji said. "I'm going to need you to help me out with some… things, after school," he said, a devilish smirk lifting at his lips. "You might have a few of those in the future."
For some reason, Zoro was compelled to step forward and kiss him. It wasn't a violent or suggestive kiss. It was earnest, deep in a way that surprised even Zoro.
"Sure thing, teach," Zoro said, smirked. "I can't wait to see what lesson you have planned for me after school."
He didn't make it to math class on time that day, but he didn't have any regrets about it either.
